punchline
by Pencilwalla
Summary: In which Silver is convinced that Gold is pretending. Only he really, really isn't. HGSSverse, Huntershipping. Oneshot.


'_He doesn't really like you.'_

Gold's fingers brush against his as they walk somewhere, to some pointless event that Gold had chattered on and on and on about and Silver hadn't heard a word of it because Gold had been sitting close to him, too close, the heat from his body like a brand against Silver's side.

'_Don't fall for this! Don't be an idiot.' _Silver shoves both hands in his pockets, forces himself to walk a little further away, and Gold sidles up to him as casual as ever and slides a hand into the crook of his elbow, hangs on and keeps fucking talking at him.

He can feel his face burning, and Gold is smirking, cocky as ever, and Silver is caught between wanting to be on the joke and being certain that he is the joke.

'_He doesn't like you – no one has ever liked you.' _

"Hey, we're here."

Here is a restaurant – oh, fuck. Silver recognizes the place immediately; the last time Gold had brought him here had been a full-on disaster. Gold had leaned forward and said…things. He'd started using words like 'feelings' and 'like' with that inflection that gave Silver hope, and then he'd been pulled away from their table by some foreign gym leader.

Silver had fled, leaving Gold with the bill, unable to stand it any longer. He didn't understand Gold's sense of humor at all! Not only was he always around, bothering him, he had to pretend he had feelings for him as well. Like it was funny that Gold was probably going to end up married to Lyra and Silver would always, always be alone…

"Um…are you going to order?"

"Yeah," Silver snatches up the menu, resisting the urge to use it to cover his face, and looks at it without really reading it. Somehow Gold has maneuvered him to a booth in the corner, and his foot brushes up against Silver's calf as he tries to decide what to order.

The waiter comes back and Silver orders without thinking; Gold's hand has caught his and their fingers end up intertwined on the table while the waiter leaves, and drinks appear, and the silence gets more and more awkward.

'_He isn't really looking at you. He's pretending.'_

"So, I think maybe…you didn't understand what I said the last time…" Gold squeezes his hand and Silver pulls it away sharply. How dare Gold try this again?

"I mean…you kind of…ran away?" Gold waves his hands in the air.

Gold is the master of useless hand gestures, Silver thinks scathingly.

"It's just…I have, you know, feelings and stuff." He pauses. "For you. Because."

'_See? He can't even be bothered to try and come up with a reason. He thinks you're that desperate.'_

Silver sees him reach for his hand again and yanks it away, into the safety of his lap. "Fuck you, Gold."

The silence that follows is long, and Silver revels viciously in the way Gold's head drops, so that he is staring into his untouched dinner. His fingers tremble a little – Silver needs to stop staring at Gold's hands – as he starts to eat.

Silver follows suit, if only to keep from prolonging this awful dinner, though he isn't even sure what he's eating or how long they sit there.

Gold brushes off the waiter's attempts to talk them into dessert, or coffee, and throws some money down when the check is brought. He gets up so fast he nearly knocks the chair over. "Keep the change." He mumbles, and he flees out into the night.

Silver watches him go, watches the snowflakes fall outside the door as he forces himself to leave. This is what he wants, right? For stupid Gold to leave him alone.

Gold's jacket is hanging over his empty chair, left behind. Silver looks again at the snow falling, remembers that Gold had been wearing short sleeves underneath, and sighs.

The night is freezing, and Silver's breath turns to fog as he walks towards Gold's apartment, trying to follow the route Gold would have taken. He wishes briefly that Weavile was with him – she loves snow – but the only Pokemon he has on him is Crobat, and Crobat's miniature sweater and hat are at home.

He is only a block away, and considering just leaving and getting someone else to return the jacket when he sees him.

Gold is sitting on a bench, alone, face buried in his knees. He looks like he might be crying. It takes everything Silver has not to run away right there and then.

He comes up behind Gold, whose hair is dotted prettily with snowflakes, and drapes his jacket across his shoulders. Gold stills, and turns around, and Silver is stopped cold by the look on his face. His eyes are red and there are salt tracks on his face and he looks devastated. Silver has seen that expression before, in the mirror. He didn't think Gold even felt things like that.

"Oh, it's you." Gold says dully.

"You left your jacket." Silver replies. He has an awful feeling in his stomach, like he's just been punched, and it keeps him from blurting out questions like _'what's wrong'_ and _'why are you out here crying'_ and _'is this my fault'_.

"Am I ugly?"

"What?"

Gold's eyes are the color of honey and his skin always glows and his hips haunt Silver's dreams. Him being ugly is not Silver's problem.

"Your ears will fall off if you keep sitting out here," he says instead.

"Whatever." Gold turns around and goes back to hugging his knees. Well, if he wants to die of hypothermia, it isn't his problem. He can just leave. It won't hurt Gold, with his perfect face and his perfect life and Silver's heart in his hands, to suffer a little bit from…whatever.

'_I don't care, I don't care, I don't care.'_

With that mantra, Silver starts to walk away.

"Wait!" Gold slams into him from behind, and they both crash into the cold asphalt.

"What do you want!?" Silver pushes Gold up and off of him; the Champion of Johto slumps back onto the wet street and just sits there. He had at least put his coat on, Silver thinks numbly.

"Silver…" Gold looks up at him and wipes at his eyes. "Um…thanks for bringing me my jacket…"

"Couldn't you have just said that?"

Gold holds out his hands, and Silver gives in and pulls him upright. Even with gloves on, Silver can feel how cold Gold's fingers are, and he squeezes without thinking, trying to put some warmth back into them.

Gold is looking at him. His eyes are darker, somehow, standing out against the white of his skin, and he leans forward.

'_Get away…!'_

Silver doesn't.

"I like you." Gold murmurs, his breath warm against Silver's mouth. His hand slide up and around Silver's neck and over his shoulders and then Gold kisses him.

It is warm and it goes on for too long, and not long enough, and when he pulls away Silver sucks in a breath, closes his eyes, waits for the punchline.

Gold's expression is all longing when he opens his eyes.

"We should go inside." Silver says. It's all he can think to say.

'_You sound like a moron.'_

"We?" Gold asks. His hands are still fisted in Silver's clothes. He tugs, pulling Silver towards his building, and he nods.

'_He hasn't laughed at me yet…so…' _

"Let's go." Silver lets himself be dragged away, Gold's hand in his. "And no running away this time!"

**Hope you enjoyed, and please review!**


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